


Reputations

by OnyxWyvern



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Im bored dont judge, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Speculative exo anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-02-18 15:39:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18702529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxWyvern/pseuds/OnyxWyvern
Summary: Razdor refuses to expose anything between him and Saryph, and Saryph thinks it’s time to hurry things along. Raz catches on quickly (not like the Titan is very subtle), and plays along to his friend’s little game.





	Reputations

Razdor-12 owned a small nightclub in the Reef. Nothing much, but it was a good front for the ex-Warlock’s growing sphere of power. Had enough to get by: dim lighting, two frames hired for cleaning jobs, and a bar stocked with enough booze to down Emperor Calus himself. It was open all day, all night, seven days a week, not that Earth measurements meant anything to the Reef. 

Saryph-15 had a tendency to stay around the Reef when he wasn’t running Gambit matches for the Drifter, or making a few extra cubes of glimmer from... less than legal fist fights. 

The Titan and Warlock had met a couple times, the Warlock would even watch the Titan’s matches occasionally. He invited Saryph over to the club once, and they shared a few drinks together. 

But something was different that one fateful Tuesday. Or maybe it was a Wednesday. Raz didn’t have time to consider the day of the week when Saryph stepped through the door. It was a leisurely day, whatever day it was, and hardly anyone was around except for two other Exo guardians; the two girls liked the atmosphere. Saryph sauntered up to the bar, and set a large bag of sapphire blue cubes on the wooden counter. Raz stared at him and narrowed his luminous green eyes. The Titan sit down and leaned into the bar, his face down, the red of his optics reflecting off the lacquer on the counter.

"I'll give you all of this if you clear the place out," He said in a surprisingly low voice. 

Razdor was intrigued by this sudden change in mood from the typically extroverted Titan, pouring himself a shot of vodka. 

"How much is this? I'm running low on some of my supply and Spider's not one to lower prices," The Warlock replied. He motioned for the two maintenance frames to usher out the two hunters in the back. He'd have to turn away a few regulars if the Titan was this serious about keeping their privacy. 

"It's enough, I promise." 

Razdor went to the front door and switched the 'Open' sign to it's 'Closed' side. He then returned to his place behind the bar, but not before noticing that the Titan had taken off his pauldrons and chestplate, as well as his mark, and was working on taking off the armor over his shins and thighs. The man at the counter wore a tight shirt under his armor, one that showed off his broad shoulders and strong physique. 

Razdor tugged at his collar a little, eyes closing in deep analysis of Saryph's calculated movements. He returned to the bar. When the Titan's ghost transmatted the last of his armor away, he was left in a long sleeved t-shirt. Raz, despite his height, couldn't see what else he had on. The Titan kept his hunched over look, until he didn't. His face lifted up slowly, and the look he gave to the Warlock sent a very well simulated shiver down Razdor's back. He had a look of hunger about him, eyeing up the tall Warlock.

"It's more than enough," He said again, and stood up. Somehow without his armor he looked even taller; he stood a whole half foot above Razdor. Saryph ran his right hand up the Warlock's left arm, and leaned forward just a little bit.

Razdor didn't like to move his head to look at those taller than him. It gave him a sense of power to look with his eyes, not his face. But Saryph forced him to look up at him, placing a sharp finger under Razdor's chin and gently lifting, eyeing up his face. 

"You're going to need more than just a bag of glimmer if you want to cover me having to close up shop for you." 

"You and I both know I don't take those kinds of threats lightly, Raz. Besides," He leaned his face close to Razdor's, "I think you'll like this next bit." 

He couldn't remember when exactly the Titan had come to his side of the bar, but he wasn't too concerned about that when the only thing between him and the wall of alcohol behind him was about half an inch of empty air. That small space was made slightly bigger when the Titan pulled him closer to him. 

The logic side of Razdor's artificial brain was screaming at him to shove the Titan back over the bar and get away, but the adventurous side of him wanted to see where this gesture, albeit constricting, would come to. The adventurous side took control and he was soon snaking his hands up Saryph's chest and over his shoulders, pulling him even closer. 

The Titan took this as a sign and turned the two of them around so that Razdor's back was against the bar. 

The Warlock suddenly remembered the open windows in the front of the building. "What if someone sees this? You work with the Vanguard, correct? And I, well, you know my influence around this part of the system." The Titan nodded. "And? You’re not going to let me go so I can close them?”

Saryph reluctantly let go of him, letting out a slow, needy breath. 

Razdor took off his coat and hung it over one of the chairs near the door, then worked the windows closed gradually. He could feel the Titan’s eyes boring into his back, and tightened his jaw. ‘You’re better than this, Raz. Everything is at stake. Just close the windows and everything will be just-‘ 

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Saryph’s clawed finger tapped the wooden bar impatiently, and he could even hear his slow, heavy breathing. Razdor quickly closed up the windows and checked one more time outside, wanting no visitors. At all. ‘No mistakes, no misinterpretations, your reputation will be fine.’

He walked back to the bar and tugged at his collar again. This time, instead of walking around and behind, he vaulted himself onto the wooden counter and sat facing the Titan. He crossed his legs and waited for Saryph to speak. 

The Titan took a while to do anything, just simply stood with his arms crossed for a minute. Then his weight shifted and he leaned over Razdor again. “You’re a man of power, yes?”

”I am.” Razdor was surprised at how calm his own voice sounded.

”I wonder just how you’d feel to have all sense of power and dignity stripped away from your mind and body.” 

Razdor felt a soft pulse of warm Light in his body, his Ghost signalling with everything she had to tell him this was a bad idea. 

Usually if his conscience and his Ghost lined up in this way when it regarded their owner’s choices, he agreed to them.  But something made him wonder just what the massive Exo in front of him meant.

“You seem... eager to find out. Eager enough to stop me during a busy hour and close. What do you want with me?” 

“I don’t want anything WITH you, Razdor.  What I want,” He said, forcefully separating the Warlock’s crossed legs, and placing his hands on Razdor’s thighs, “is you.”

Razdor’s chest burned, and he could tell that the Titan wanted more than just a couple drinks and a man to talk to.

The next thing he knew, his lower back was pressed against the inside of the bar, legs forced around the Titan’s hips for his own stability. His mouth flashed the same venom green as his eyes, a blur of heat and Light. 

The Titan was relatively silent, the occasional tight grunt or soft whine. For once, Razdor was glad he wore a white shirt; this was sure to stain. Saryph though, had no intentions in letting the bartender get what he wanted. 

He stopped. Not a gradual, pleasant stop but a full halt. Razdor’s face turned from one of surprise, then to disappointment, then to “immensely pissed off.” He released his legs, falling with a heavy metallic ‘thud’ on the floor. Saryph helped him up. 

“Turn around,” he said.

”What? No. Oh-ho-ho no, you are not going to just do all of that, and just-“ Saryph cut him off, spinning him around and clutching his thin body against his own broad chest. He then pushed the Warlock down onto the bar, keeping his hands back. He leaned himself into the bar again, except this time there was someone between him and the hardwood countertop. 

He wanted to humiliate him, even if it was just the two of them. Razdor checked the windows, just in case he really was being watched. He silently enjoyed this, a lot more than he cared to admit. It was certainly worth clearing the place out, he knew that. 

Razdor was forced to arch his back sharply, Saryph having grabbed onto the long, curved horn on the front of his face and pulled backwards. He felt everything. The feel of a new pair of hands, holding tight. The feel of this Titan, now deep inside him. The feel of being absolutely powerless. 

The two finished simultaneously, and, not long after, the Titan was given his armor back. He donned the heavy plates and left. Razdor’s thoughts were all-focused on the happenings that he had experienced, but he managed to gather his clothes and stagger up the back stairs up to his room. He didn’t bother to open the place up again. His ghost appeared, disappointed and yet, somehow, also amused.

”You are in such deep trouble, Razzy.”

”You sound like my mother, Vasi. It’s fine. Nothing is going to happen, as long as he doesn’t say a word.”

”And how exactly do you know he’s not going to say anything?” 

“Because if he does, he is in extremely deep shit, and I will find him.” 

The Ghost rolled her little blue eye in her shell, and simply gave up. “Don't say I didn’t tell you so if he does tell.” 

“Goodnight, Vasi.”

”Razdor-“

”Good. Night.”

**Author's Note:**

> _(´^`」 ∠) *dies of immense regret*
> 
> I regret making this, this is what happens when you can’t do anything about your boredom. And you’re me. So boredom = horniness. I’m so sorry.


End file.
